


4 Clues That You're Secretly the Protagonist of a Romantic Comedy

by sarcasticsra



Category: Cracked.com, Cracked: After Hours
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, M/M, Meet-Cute, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 04:30:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2335379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticsra/pseuds/sarcasticsra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan had a decent job (<i>assistant photographer/gopher/secretary/person who took care of all the shit Katie didn’t have time for</i>), a decent understanding of his friends and/or co-workers (<i>while it was true Michael was ridiculous, he was at least <b>consistently</b> ridiculous</i>), and nothing on his plate he couldn't handle (<i>the lack of focus on him from startlingly pretty people actually made things a hell of a lot easier</i>). So, all in all, his life could be worse. </p><p>But could it also—maybe—be better?</p>
            </blockquote>





	4 Clues That You're Secretly the Protagonist of a Romantic Comedy

**Author's Note:**

> So there I was, just innocently scrolling along my dash, when _someone_ (*coughAMBERcough*) reblogged a few of those posts that are just long lists of random AUs. One of said AUs then proceeded to burrow itself deep, deep into my brain and refuse to let go until I wrote it. The AU in question: "Model who looks and acts really professional at the photo shoot but is actually a huge nerd AU." It took a slightly different path in the end, because somehow I failed to anticipate it _turning into a romcom_ on me, but there you have it. The evolution of a fanfic is a strange and varied one sometimes, my friends. XD
> 
> Thank you for the beta, Amber!

Dan liked his job, all things considered. The interview had been a little tense at first, sure, but once they stopped tiptoeing around the elephant in the room, it was fine:

“And you want to work with me? You do know I work with primarily male models, right?” Katie asked him, not quite managing not to look skeptical.

“I like your work.” He paused a moment and then added, “I’m not going to, like, run around yelling ‘no homo’ every two minutes, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“…I was, kinda, yeah.” She shrugged and nodded. “Well, all right. You can start tomorrow. Oh, uh—sorry in advance about Michael.”

And despite that odd, slightly ominous warning, Dan actually didn’t mind Michael (Katie’s… friend? …boyfriend? …stalker? Admittedly he still hadn’t quite worked that one out yet.) at all, because while it was true he was ridiculous, he was at least _consistently_ ridiculous. Dan never felt singled out. It could almost be considered comforting, in a weird way.

Plus, the models themselves were always extremely professional. They didn’t pay him much attention, as Katie’s assistant photographer/gopher/secretary/person who took care of all the shit she didn’t have time for, but more in a ‘focusing on the job’ way than a ‘you’re beneath me’ way. They were, as Katie had ‘warned,’ mostly guys, although she did do the occasional shoot with women:

“Female Gaze, Daniel!” she shouted at him the first time before such an event, and he patiently waited for her to explain why she was just… announcing the name of her studio. “Our audience is mostly made up of women. You understand what that means, right?”

She had that manic glint in her eyes, the one she got right before she was about to start deconstructing the history of women’s roles in literature or something, and while Dan usually found her recitations interesting, they also still had a lot to do to get ready for the shoot, so he jumped to the chase: “It means some of them are not straight, and deserve media aimed at them?”

She eyed him suspiciously. “Correct. Get to work.”

Dan wasn’t doing this job for any… nefarious, smutty reasons, but even if he were, it wasn’t like it would matter what gender the models were. Attractive was attractive, and generally made him go monosyllabic stupid either way, so he wasn’t angling to chat up anyone. The lack of focus on him from startlingly pretty people actually made things a hell of a lot easier. 

So, all in all, his life could be worse. Actually, he always kind of thought it _would_ be worse, which might explain today. Maybe the universe was catching up to him.

First, he was running late, which sucked and was entirely his own stupid fault for staying up all night on Netflix ( _again_ ) and forgetting to set his alarm before he crashed, and then he forgot his umbrella on the _one day_ it decided to rain, and now here he was in front of a hideously long line at Starbucks, about to die of mortification, because he managed to forget about the fact that he had just switched all of his pertinent ID-and-payment paraphernalia to his new wallet last night. Somehow he didn’t think the barista would accept his defunct Blockbuster rental card as legal tender.

Just as he was about to accept his fate, however, the guy who’d been in line ahead of him had his name called—Soren? Could that be right, or was it just a bizarre misspelling of, like, Steven or something?—and as he collected his drink he handed the cashier a ten. “For his drink,” he said, and Dan resisted the urge to glance around to make sure he was the one being referred to. 

“Uh, thanks,” Dan said, awkwardly, as they moved out of the way so the line could progress. “I’m actually having the worst day right now so… I appreciate it. Wow.” The ‘wow’ was an unasked for and unwelcome addition to his sentence, one for which Dan would need to have a stern talk with his brain about letting come out of his mouth, entirely caused by possibly-Soren-or-maybe-just-Steven finally turning the full focus of his attention on Dan. He gave him an absurdly attractive smile that lit up his absurdly attractive face. 

“No problem,” he said. “You looked a little panicked, figured I could help you out.”

“I can pay you back. I just switched all my stuff over last night because really the only way I ever clean out my wallet is when I get a new wallet and I _finally_ got a new wallet but I was running late this morning thanks to _stupid Netflix_ and I completely forgot it.” He took a breath. “And also my umbrella,” he added, belatedly, staring pointedly at the scones in the counter so he wouldn’t have to watch this guy’s absurdly attractive face go from an absurdly attractive smile to what would in all likelihood still somehow be an absurdly attractive _I’m going to back away from the crazy person right about now_ type expression.

“Oh, one of _those_ days. I’ve—well, I’ve never actually _had_ one of those days, admittedly, but it sounds like it sucks. Don’t worry about paying me back.”

Dan chanced a glance up from the scones. Possibly-Soren still seemed perfectly content to chat with him, as though idiots babbled at him all the time—which, come to think of it, they probably did—and this experience was nothing out of the ordinary in his day-to-day interactions.

“Don!” called a barista suddenly, and Dan knew instinctively that was him. He considered correcting her, but then figured it didn’t really matter, collecting his cup and moving in the direction of the napkin/sugar/stirrer counter. It apparently happened to be in the same direction as maybe-Steven’s table, because he sat down a couple feet away. 

“Is your name actually Soren, or did they just somehow butcher Steven?” Dan blurted.

He grinned. Dan had to look away, busying himself with doctoring his coffee. “It’s Soren. Let me guess. Your name isn’t Don?”

“Dan,” he said sheepishly. “Three letters. I’m not sure how they got a third of them wrong.”

“It’s a gift. Or maybe it’s tradecraft,” Soren said, and Dan grinned. 

“Passed down from elder barista to apprentice as the years march on?” he asked, and Soren laughed.

“Exactly,” he said, and then offered, “You can sit here, if you want.”

“Oh, thanks, I—” He stopped as soon as his phone buzzed. He winced as he checked it, having a pretty good guess about who it would be. Sure enough, Katie was threatening to cause him extreme bodily harm in some very creative (and probably anatomically impossible) ways if he didn’t get to the studio in the next ten minutes. “I actually have to go. My boss is this close to breaking out the guillotine.”

“Are their punishments frequently inspired by the French revolution?” asked Soren, looking amused. 

“She’s been on a French history kick lately,” he muttered. “Anyway, uh—thanks again for the coffee. And for listening to me babble.”

Soren waved that way. “Don’t worry about it. Good luck with your boss.”

Dan attempted a smile, surprising himself with how easily it actually happened. “Thanks.”

He left the Starbucks in a considerably better mood than he’d been in when he entered it. Maybe that would help him with Katie…

“So you finally _deigned_ to grace us with your _sparkling_ presence?”

…then again, maybe not.

Dan therefore decided to go for the only course of action that ever seemed to work for him: groveling. “I’m so, so sorry. _So sorry_. I overslept, forgot to set my alarm, it was a stupid mistake. It won’t happen again, I promise. Did I mention I’m really sorry?”

Katie harrumphed. “It’s annoying that you’re the most helpful assistant I’ve ever had, so I can’t even be that mad at you. Just… remember to set your alarm, will you?”

“No problem.”

“Good. We have a new guy coming in today. He’ll be here in about an hour. Here’s what we need to get ready.”

And just like that, things were shifting back to normal. Maybe the universe _wasn’t_ trying to get back at him for enjoying a better lot in life than initially planned out. Maybe it was okay.

He was actually starting to be convinced of that when the preparations for their shoot managed to fall into place without much trouble, and then when Katie grudgingly praised him for the way he handled everything. 

Of course, then the model showed up. 

“Oh Jesus Christ,” he muttered as Soren walked in the door, apparently talking to _Michael_ of all people about God only knew what.

“Michael, what have I told you about talking to my clients?” Katie hissed at him.

“He started talking to me first! Anyway, I didn’t say anything _weird_.”

Soren gave her a look that clearly contradicted that statement. Luckily, he seemed more amused than anything. 

“Just… go sit over there in the corner.”

“Kinky,” said Michael, leering, and he moved to the corner. Dan tried to will himself to blend in perfectly with his surroundings. He even hunched in on himself a little to make himself look smaller. Maybe if he was really, really lucky, Soren wouldn’t—

“Dan?”

“Hey there,” Dan said, weakly. 

Katie looked between them, surprised. “You two know each other?”

“We just met earlier today,” Soren said.

“He, uh, bailed me out with some coffee,” Dan added, awkwardly, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

Katie’s expression turned discerning. “Huh. How… coincidental,” she said, frowning slightly. Then she seemed to snap out of it, switching gears. “So, Soren, are you ready to get started? I had a few specific ideas I wanted to run by you.”

“Sounds good,” Soren said, and suddenly he and Katie were all business. Dan happily faded into the background, doing the background things he was so good at.

It figured, though. It just fucking figured. Of _course_ Soren was a model, Jesus Christ, there was the _absurdly attractive_ factor, for crying out loud. So he’d not only made an idiot out of himself in front of a random absurdly attractive guy, but he’d also made an idiot out of himself in front of a client. Plus he’d made an idiot out of himself in front of _himself_ , because maybe a tiny little part of him had been patting himself on the back about the fact that he’d managed to make him laugh.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_. He was a _model_ , for Christ’s sake—he wasn’t just out of his league, he was probably playing a completely different game in the first place. It was bound to be some really obscure game he’d never heard of, too, with rules too complicated to learn if you hadn’t done so from childhood, therefore making it just that much more exclusive.

He was getting lost in that metaphor. But the point stood: he was an idiot.

Lightly, he thumped his head against the wall. 

“What’s the matter, Daniel?” Michael asked suddenly. “Don’t know how to talk to your new crush? I think there are magazines you can write to about that.”

“Shut up, Michael,” said Dan. “That’s not—no, just—no.”

“Oh, come on, chill. You know I only tease because I love. Well, and hate. But mostly the love.” He seemed to lose his train of thought, because he paused for a moment and shrugged before adding, “Anyway, it’s not like it isn’t obvious that he’s just as into you. I mean, _weird_ , right?”

“That’s not even… right,” Dan said, slowly, feeling even more confused than he usually did whenever he talked to Michael.

“Uh huh. So he’s talking to Katie, right? How come he’s only checked her out once but he keeps repeatedly glancing back over here?”

“He’s probably trying to make sure the weirdo he helped out at Starbucks isn’t suddenly stalking him.”

“He helped you at Starbucks?”

“I… forgot I changed over my wallet last night. I didn’t have any money, he paid for my coffee. It was just... a random act of kindness.”

“No, I think there’s another name for that,” Michael said. “I bet Katie knows it. Let’s ask her. Hey, Katie!”

“Michael!”

“Yes, Michael?” Katie asked, raising an eyebrow, and Michael walked up to her and Soren. Reluctantly, Dan followed. 

“What’s it called when the two main characters meet in a romcom but not in a normal way?”

“It’s called a Meet Cute,” Soren answered, before Katie had a chance. Sometimes Dan had to wonder about himself for considering knowledge of pop culture to be a turn on. “Any meeting that’s funny, cute, or coincidental.”

“Hah, I knew there was a name for it. Told you, Dan.”

“I knew that term,” he said hastily. “You just… described it poorly.”

“You guys were talking about romcoms?” Katie asked. “That’s funny. I was thinking about them earlier. Like, for instance, Dan, you could totally be a romcom protagonist.”

“I—what? I could not,” he said. “You have to be, like, well— _he_ could, definitely.” He indicated Soren. “I’m more the comic relief sidekick guy.”

“No, I don’t know, Katie has a point,” Michael said. “You’re quirky. You need that in a romcom protagonist.”

“Nerdy cute and quirky are the main requirements, pretty much,” agreed Soren. “You’d fit right in.”

Dan couldn’t help but give Soren an astonished look. “But I’m not—” He stopped, barely registering Michael and Katie walking away from them. Finally, he blurted, “Did we Meet Cute earlier?”

“Yeah, we really kinda did,” Soren said, amused. “So I figure at this point we could have a couple contrived misunderstandings and then go on a date, or I could just take you to dinner tonight.”

“Yes,” Dan said immediately. “To, uh, dinner, that is. Not the contrived misunderstandings. Like me thinking for an act that you’re really interested in Katie.”

“Oh, come on, that leaves me thinking you’re dating Michael or something, and I refuse to be typecast as a dumb blond.”

They grinned at each other.

 

(Later, after dinner:

“Then again, without the contrived misunderstandings, narratively you just don’t get the grand romantic gesture and passionate kiss that makes all the people around the main characters stop what they’re doing and clap for them.”

“There’s a flaw with that theory.”

Dan frowned. “How so?”

Soren pulled him in and kissed him thoroughly, only just chaste enough to be appropriate out in public. When he released him, Dan gave him a dazed look and Soren only smirked. “Did that prove my point?”

Dan licked his lips. “You know, it was a convincing argument, but I’m not sure it’s enough on its own. Maybe you should go over it again?”

Soren laughed, which made Dan feel roughly as good as the kiss had. “I think I can manage that.”

He kissed him again. Just then, Dan could swear he almost heard some applause.)


End file.
